


And When My Time Is Up (Have I Done Enough?)

by wendigo_alderson



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt Clarke, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Bellamy, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 06:04:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13698363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wendigo_alderson/pseuds/wendigo_alderson
Summary: Bellamy hears over the radio that Clarke tried to have them test the radiation on her instead. He consequently flips his shit.





	And When My Time Is Up (Have I Done Enough?)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!! My first fic for The 100 please give me feedback :,)

Bellamy barely hears the crackle of the radio coming to life amidst the thumping of the music inside the ship as warm bodies push past him. Jasper as giving him a sickly grin from across the room, beckoning him over the music. But he hears it, and his hand immediately flies to his waist, snatching it out of its holster. Over the staticky radio he hears Raven’s breathless voice,   
“Bellamy we’ve got a problem,” He glances back up and Jasper’s expression of carelessness changes when he sees the worry written over Bellamy’s face. Bellamy’s lips turn downward into a concerned frown as his thumb presses down the talk button, the device in his hand buzzing to life.  
“What’s going on?” He asks, an edge of desperation in his voice. The two words uttered next over the staticky radio make his stomach drop in utter terror.  
“It’s Clarke.”   
His limbs seem to move in slow motion as the music seems to fade to a dull hammering in his mind. His legs take him to the rover, boots caked in mud that he was too preoccupied to dodge. His fingers move on their own accord, turning the key in the ignition as the machine rumbles to life.   
Hang on Clarke.

The drive to Becca’s lab feels like a lifetime. He holds the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip, his ears ringing, and he feels painfully numbed in terror. The only thing keeping him grounded is the consistent bump of the rover over the uneven terrain and the adrenaline coursing through his veins. The very prospect that Clarke could be hurt makes him feel sick, but the idea that she could be….no, he pushes that thought to the farthest corner of his mind, not allowing himself to believe it for a second. It was Clarke after all, she always did stupid shit but she knew her limits. He silently cursed the girl for her recklessness, a pang shocking through his heart.  
When the lab comes into sight his foot presses down harder on the gas before he slams the brake just outside the entrance. His head feels fuzzy as he leaps out of the rover, slamming the door unconsciously as he breaks into a run. He doesn’t even register the cold feeling of the door against his hands. He bursts into the lab, eyes wide with panic and cold sweat dripping down his back. The first thing he sees is Raven looking at him with an expression of sorrow and Bellamy’s mind immediately jumps to the worst case scenario and he’s suddenly shouldering past everyone else in the room. He catches sight of blonde hair and his fingernails bite into the skin of his palm painfully so. And then she turns around and looks at him, and he’s almost crying now in relief. He barely registers the pain of his knees hitting the tile floor as he envelopes her into a bone-crushing hug. She seems shocked, hands fluttering unsurely for a few seconds before coming to rest on his back, squeezing back. He’s breathing hard into the crook of her neck, his arms holding her tightly as he lets all of the fear ripple through his body in shaky breaths. After a few moments like this, clinging to his princess he pulls back, cupping her face in his large hands, eyes flickering over her face, surveying for damage. She stares back at him, lips parted, eyes glassy with unshed tears. Her hair is mussed around her face in a golden halo and even now in the harsh artificial lighting of the lab she’s ethereal.  
“Clarke what the hell happened,” He asks her, searching her expression for any indication of what happened. Clarke closes her eyes and shakes her head, her nose brushing against his hand at the movement. He hears someone stepping forward and knows it’s Abby before she even speaks.   
“She injected herself with nightblood,” Abby answers in Clarke’s silence. Bellamy’s eyebrows rise up into his bangs, eyes widening once again in fear, and God, Clarke can’t open her eyes because she can’t handle the pain she knows is flickering across his face.   
“She wanted us to try the radiation on her.” Abby finishes, voice wavering.  
“She almost did it, I almost-” Abby stops herself, choking back tears, but she doesn’t have to finish her sentence. He knows.  
Bellamy makes an awful choking sound in the back of his throat, causing Clarke to open her eyes and she instantly regrets it as she sees the sheer agony written all over his face. His mouth is hanging open and his eyes are welling up with tears and she can feel his hands shaking against her skin.   
“Why,” he croaks out softly, voice thick with emotion. Clarke looks up at the audience, silently asking them to leave, and they understand, walking away. Abby stays, eyes fixed on Clarke as tears drip down the ravines of her tired face, and she only leaves as Jackson grabs onto her elbow, escorting her out. As they disappear Clarke lets her eyes flit back to Bellamy’s face and he’s biting his lip now, trying to push down his emotions.   
“Bellamy,” she begins softly as his hands slip down to her neck and then her shoulders, gripping them but not uncomfortably so. He can’t let go of her, he needs to hold her, he almost lost her. “I can’t let anyone else die because of me,” she tells him. Bellamy’s eyes furrow in frustration and he looks down at their practically intertwined legs for a moment before he can summon up the words to reply.   
“Clarke,” he says, all shakiness gone from his voice, replaced by his no-nonsense tone. “I love you. So much.” Tears spill over her eyes at these words, accompanied by a sharp intake of breath, pulled from her lungs. “I can’t lose you too.” he murmurs. “We need you, God, Clarke, I need you.” He insists, voice deep and serious. “If you die,” he has to pause and take a breath at the notion, “a piece of all of us dies with you,” she’s practically sobbing now, shaking in his arms. “A piece of Monty, a piece of Jasper, a piece of me,” his thumb moves up to catch some of the tears cascading down the planes of her face. “Don’t abandon our stupid dysfunctional family.” He finishes, voice barely above a whisper as he cards a hand through the hair falling in front of her eyes.   
“You know this isn’t the only solution,” He murmurs, throat closing up.  
“Bellamy, I bear it so they don’t have t-” He cuts her off with a harsh shake of his head, tousled curls swaying across his forehead.   
“Clarke that’s bullshit and you know it,” He practically growls, and Clarke opens her mouth to interject but he quickly cuts her off, “No, you know who bears the heartache, the loss, the emptiness, when you die? Me. Monty. Jasper. Harper. Octavia. Your mother. We will bear it every single goddamn day when we see your empty spot at the table, or the unnatural silence in med bay. We will suffer.” Clarke is shaking again but Bellamy needs her to understand what he’s saying. She looks down, taking in a shuddering breath and he feels a tear drop onto his wrist as he holds her at arms length.   
“I can’t let you die, Bellamy,” She whispers, unable to look up at him. She can’t find the strength to say those words back, but he understands. She’s pulled out of her grief by the warmth of two large hands cupping her face, pulling her up to look into his eyes, not roughly but with insistence.   
“If I can die by your side, knowing I have loved you every day, I’ll be the happiest man on this Earth.” She doesn’t even know what to say because her hands are shaking where they lie in her lap and Bellamy is holding her gently like she’s something tender and forgivable and it hurts. She doesn’t know how it happens but suddenly it’s too much and she’s grabbing the fabric of Bellamy’s jacket, fisting it tightly in her hands as she collapses into him, sobbing. Bellamy can feel how strongly she’s gripping his jacket and it pains him to see how much desperation and pain she’s in. His arms snake almost unconsciously around her back, holding her close against his chest, letting her fall apart against him. He drops his head down to her shoulder gently, his curly bangs tickling her neck.   
“You’re so strong Clarke,” He tells her, lips ghosting over the shell of her ear as he pulls back slightly. She gazes up at him, suddenly looking more like a scared child than the ruthless ‘Wanheda’. His palms move to hold her chin, thumbs sweeping across her jawline in soft affectionate strokes.   
“Our people need a leader. Not a martyr.” His voice is deep and serious, no room for question in his tone. Clarke nods, leaning her forehead against his chest once more. Content with her answer he lets out a sigh of relief, spine relaxing as he curls around her, pressing kisses to the crown of her head. They remain there, collapsed into each other, two lovers bearing the weight of the Earth, bathed in the harsh lights from the ceiling. They would make it through this together. Together. Alive. And even if the latter proved to be untrue, he was at peace knowing that he was able to have this fraction of history with the tiny, fearsome girl he had come to love. 


End file.
